Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > Bury Me In Memory
Peter:
"Order up!" Big Ray called from the kitchen as I carefully scooted around another employee to get Table 12's order.
Work was chaotic. As always.
Everyone loves serving pancakes and bussing tables just so they can have a chance at selling their record, right? Wrong-o. Most days I wonder if I'll ever even get out of here. Then I remember how much work Patrick puts into making my shitty words sound beautiful and inspiring. And then I push myself to stand yet another day of pushing waffles and pancakes, for him. So he can present my soul, my insane, completely fucked-up soul to everyone in a way that is somehow beautiful. I still have no idea how he does it. Ohhh, work.
But, tonight we had a pretty cool pair of kids at Table 12. They were two boys, one with long, dark emo hair, the other with eyes surrounded in dark red eyeshadow.
As I approched the table with a towering tray of waffles and pancakes, I wondered how Patrick was dealing with Reyna.
Reyna:
"I want hot chocolate." I said, releasing my hand from his, my arm scraping against the metal buckle on his leather cuff while rolling off of the rumpled comforter landing my knees on the floor.
"It's the third of June." Patrick said, rolling onto his side and smiling.
"I know." I smiled, reaching over and adjusting his hat. I then rested my head on the edge of the bed.
"Okay, then. But I'll just take an iced tea." he said, getting off of my bed, and taking my hand, leading me out of the door.
Once in the kitchen, I poured some milk into a mug and stuck it into the microwave. I then stepped over to the cabinet and grabbed Patrick a glass as he opened the fridge and extracted the iced tea. I stepped around him and grabbed a few ice cubes from the freezer.
"So, what's up with the whole 'hot chocolate in June' thing?" he smiled, as he poured himself some iced tea and sat down at the table against the wall, placing a straw in his glass.
"I don't know..." I said, removing my heated milk from the beeping microwave, "I just like it. A lot." I smiled, mixing Swiss Miss into my mug. I sniffed in the wonderful scent of the chocolatey powder as I seated myself across from Patrick.
Patrick took my hand and looked me in the eye. "Reyna?"
I swallowed my gulp and set down my steaming mug. We laced together our fingers on both of our hands.
"I don't want to seem too foward... or too... I don't know. We haven't known each other for long... and I don't want to sound weird, but I really like you. I hope that wasn't corny." he said, blushing and looking at his lap.
"Hah, I know what you mean, and it doesn't sound corny to me, at all." I smiled, rubbing his hand with my thumb.
Peter:
"Thanks for being so cool today, man." the kid with the makeup smiled. He was skinny and awkward looking. He couldn't have been older than 17.
"Hey, how old are you guys, anyway? I haven't seen you around any of the venues lately, and you definetly look like venue kids." I smiled, laying their bill on their table.
"I'm 16, I'm Spencer. He's 17, and he's Ryan. We're not from around here." the boy with the shiny dark hair said.
"Where're you from?"
"Vegas." They both answered.
"We're trying to get some labels from across the states to listen to our music. We stopped here to talk to the guys at Virgin. They laughed at us." Ryan frowned, looking at his feet.
"Got a copy?" I smiled.
"Yeah, I do. Why?" Spencer said, reaching into his bag, and pulling out a slim cd case, and handing it to me.
"Well, I'm a musician too. and with the money that I make off of our new cd, I'm hoping to start a small record label. If you wanted, you could be my first project."
"Yeah, dude!" Spencer said, shaking my hand.
"Pete! Your shift's over! CLOCK OUT!" Big Ray called from the kitchen.
"I got to go guys, but here's my email address." I said, scribbling it down on to a stub of paper.
"'Kay, see you later." Ryan smiled as I walked towards the back of the store, CD in hand.
Patrick:
"Okay, good. So, I'm not sounding creepy?" Please don't let me sound creepy.
"Not at all." she smiled.
Yes! "Okay, so... uh, will you be my g-girlfriend?", I smiled, my voice shaking.
She smiled "Of course."
She. Said. Yes.
Holy Shit.
Reyna:
We released hands, as I leaned across the table and kissed him full force, on the lips.
As I sat back down, I noticed him blushing as we stared into each other's eyes.
He has the most beautiful eyes.
My boyfriend has the most beautiful eyes.
How on earth did I get this lucky?
I really should turn eighteen and move to another state more often.
Peter:
I hopped into my car and pushed in my new cd that read 'Panic! At The Disco - Intensely Crazy Demo.'
"Now I'm of consenting age to be forgetting you in a cabaret.
Somewhere downtown where a burlesque queen may even ask my name
As she sheds her skin on stage
I'm seated and sweating to a dance song on the club's P.A.
The strip joint veteran sits two away
Smirking between dignified sips of his dignified peach and lime daiquiri." the rough recording spilled throughout my small car.
They were pretty good for being 17.
As I pulled in the driveway, and unlocked the kitchen door, I was humming a new tune.
Patrick and Reyna were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping beverages, while staring at each other with goo-goo eyes.
Awwwwh. I think I just threw up a little.
"Hey guys."
Silence.
"Yeah! My day was great, thanks!"
Silence.
"Yeah, I did meet some new people, and I did make some big tips... How big are the tips you ask? Well, I got a new band for my label, once Patrick decides to write the music for our last song.... Yeah, I'm hoping to get the record done soon, too. It's been wonderful talking to you. It really has.... But I smell like pancakes, so I really should shower. But, really, it's been great." I walked towards the stairs, throwing my dirty apron at Patrick.
Patrick:
Something soft that reeked of pancakes and syrup slammed into the side of my face.
"AHH!" I screamed, wiping maple syrup off of my face. "What the hell was that!?!" I yelled, my words slightly muffled, as I lifted the stinky piece of fabric off of my face.
"Pete's apron." Reyna laughed, handing me a napkin.
"Eww! Gross it touched my HEAD!"
Reyna looked puzzled. "There's a problem with this?"
"It's all syrupy! And it was on my HEAD! I don't like it when things touch my head." I shuddered, removing my glasses, wiping them free of syrup.
"You look nice without glasses." Reyna smiled.
"I have contacts," I squinted at her, "I just don't like to wear them."
"Oh, well, you look hot in glasses too." I saw a flash of white appear where her mouth should be.
"Uh, thanks." I blushed, wiping my face with a napkin. "Maybe I'll wear my contacts more often." I sighed, seeing a blurred version of Reyna picking up Pete's apron, and dropping it down the laundry chute.
"Well, I guess I have some laundry to do tonight." she sighed. Suddenly, she ran over to the table, picked up my glasses, and skipped up the stairs.
"Hey! Come back!" I shouted. "I need those!" I raced up the stairs after her.
"Reyna...?" I called down the hallway as I reached the top of the slim stairwell.
"Patrick?" I heard her giggle from the other end of the house. "Come here!" she whispered, stepping into sight. She was just a blur. I quietly walked towards her, when I arrived at her feet, she gently placed my glasses back in their rightful place, smiling, and blushing. 'Look!' she mouthed, opening the door to their bathroom a crack, and pointing inside.
I peered through the door, and saw Pete standing at the mirror, a towel wrapped strategically around his waist, singing into a hair brush, "Taking back every step towards you,
still failing at everything I do. In the meantime just talking with my shoes,converse with my Converse! At least they hear a word I say ee ay! And scrutinize it, yeah! Just as far as they can tell what I'm getting at." while dancing in front of the mirror.
Reyna grabbed my hand, and shot down the more formal, definetly less used, front stairs. We ended up in the living room, small and cozy, with a decent sized T.V., and a large couch.
"Hi." she smiled, pulling me down next to her on the couch.
"Umph. Hello." I said, trying to keep from sinking into the large leather couch, but failing miserablely.
We heard heavy foot steps thudding down the front steps.
"Reyna!"
"I'm not here!" she called, throwing her hood over her head, and covering her eyes.
"Patrick have you seen Reyna?" Pete asked, stumbling into the living room, carrying a handheld mirror, applying large amounts of eyeliner around his brown orbs.
"Uhh..." I said, pointing at the figure on the couch next to me.
"Oh!" He said, setting down the mirror and the eyeliner stick on the coffee table. He ran his hands through his newly straightened hair, and then placed them firmly on his hips. "You." he said, pointing at Reyna as she removed her hood.
"Yes?" she asked sweetly.
"You were spying on me in the bathroom. I heard you. And your adoreable giggling." He said, turning towards me, smiling. "And you, you're not any better mister! Anyway, I'm going out with Emily tonight, so please, behave, I don't want to come home to a drunken house party, understand that you two?" he asked.
"Yes." we both nodded.
Reyna:
"Yes." I nodded, and rolled my eyes, snaking my arms around Patrick's arm as Pete gathered his things.
"Oh, and there are condoms are in my top desk drawer..." Pete mumbled while running up the stairs.
"Perv!" I yelled, unfortunetly, in Patrick's ear.
"Owch!" he whined, shutting his eyes.
"Awh. I'm so sorry! I'm so hateful! Why do you even put up with me? I always hurt you!" I asked, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
He turned, and placed his rough lips on mine, and pulled away saying "Because you make me the happiest man alive, and you would never hurt me in the way that really matters to me."
"I love you." escaped from my lips. I felt my cheeks flame red, but Patrick must have not noticed, because he smiled at me, kissed my forehead, and repeated those beautiful, beautiful words.
"I love you too."
"Order up!" Big Ray called from the kitchen as I carefully scooted around another employee to get Table 12's order.
Work was chaotic. As always.
Everyone loves serving pancakes and bussing tables just so they can have a chance at selling their record, right? Wrong-o. Most days I wonder if I'll ever even get out of here. Then I remember how much work Patrick puts into making my shitty words sound beautiful and inspiring. And then I push myself to stand yet another day of pushing waffles and pancakes, for him. So he can present my soul, my insane, completely fucked-up soul to everyone in a way that is somehow beautiful. I still have no idea how he does it. Ohhh, work.
But, tonight we had a pretty cool pair of kids at Table 12. They were two boys, one with long, dark emo hair, the other with eyes surrounded in dark red eyeshadow.
As I approched the table with a towering tray of waffles and pancakes, I wondered how Patrick was dealing with Reyna.
Reyna:
"I want hot chocolate." I said, releasing my hand from his, my arm scraping against the metal buckle on his leather cuff while rolling off of the rumpled comforter landing my knees on the floor.
"It's the third of June." Patrick said, rolling onto his side and smiling.
"I know." I smiled, reaching over and adjusting his hat. I then rested my head on the edge of the bed.
"Okay, then. But I'll just take an iced tea." he said, getting off of my bed, and taking my hand, leading me out of the door.
Once in the kitchen, I poured some milk into a mug and stuck it into the microwave. I then stepped over to the cabinet and grabbed Patrick a glass as he opened the fridge and extracted the iced tea. I stepped around him and grabbed a few ice cubes from the freezer.
"So, what's up with the whole 'hot chocolate in June' thing?" he smiled, as he poured himself some iced tea and sat down at the table against the wall, placing a straw in his glass.
"I don't know..." I said, removing my heated milk from the beeping microwave, "I just like it. A lot." I smiled, mixing Swiss Miss into my mug. I sniffed in the wonderful scent of the chocolatey powder as I seated myself across from Patrick.
Patrick took my hand and looked me in the eye. "Reyna?"
I swallowed my gulp and set down my steaming mug. We laced together our fingers on both of our hands.
"I don't want to seem too foward... or too... I don't know. We haven't known each other for long... and I don't want to sound weird, but I really like you. I hope that wasn't corny." he said, blushing and looking at his lap.
"Hah, I know what you mean, and it doesn't sound corny to me, at all." I smiled, rubbing his hand with my thumb.
Peter:
"Thanks for being so cool today, man." the kid with the makeup smiled. He was skinny and awkward looking. He couldn't have been older than 17.
"Hey, how old are you guys, anyway? I haven't seen you around any of the venues lately, and you definetly look like venue kids." I smiled, laying their bill on their table.
"I'm 16, I'm Spencer. He's 17, and he's Ryan. We're not from around here." the boy with the shiny dark hair said.
"Where're you from?"
"Vegas." They both answered.
"We're trying to get some labels from across the states to listen to our music. We stopped here to talk to the guys at Virgin. They laughed at us." Ryan frowned, looking at his feet.
"Got a copy?" I smiled.
"Yeah, I do. Why?" Spencer said, reaching into his bag, and pulling out a slim cd case, and handing it to me.
"Well, I'm a musician too. and with the money that I make off of our new cd, I'm hoping to start a small record label. If you wanted, you could be my first project."
"Yeah, dude!" Spencer said, shaking my hand.
"Pete! Your shift's over! CLOCK OUT!" Big Ray called from the kitchen.
"I got to go guys, but here's my email address." I said, scribbling it down on to a stub of paper.
"'Kay, see you later." Ryan smiled as I walked towards the back of the store, CD in hand.
Patrick:
"Okay, good. So, I'm not sounding creepy?" Please don't let me sound creepy.
"Not at all." she smiled.
Yes! "Okay, so... uh, will you be my g-girlfriend?", I smiled, my voice shaking.
She smiled "Of course."
She. Said. Yes.
Holy Shit.
Reyna:
We released hands, as I leaned across the table and kissed him full force, on the lips.
As I sat back down, I noticed him blushing as we stared into each other's eyes.
He has the most beautiful eyes.
My boyfriend has the most beautiful eyes.
How on earth did I get this lucky?
I really should turn eighteen and move to another state more often.
Peter:
I hopped into my car and pushed in my new cd that read 'Panic! At The Disco - Intensely Crazy Demo.'
"Now I'm of consenting age to be forgetting you in a cabaret.
Somewhere downtown where a burlesque queen may even ask my name
As she sheds her skin on stage
I'm seated and sweating to a dance song on the club's P.A.
The strip joint veteran sits two away
Smirking between dignified sips of his dignified peach and lime daiquiri." the rough recording spilled throughout my small car.
They were pretty good for being 17.
As I pulled in the driveway, and unlocked the kitchen door, I was humming a new tune.
Patrick and Reyna were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping beverages, while staring at each other with goo-goo eyes.
Awwwwh. I think I just threw up a little.
"Hey guys."
Silence.
"Yeah! My day was great, thanks!"
Silence.
"Yeah, I did meet some new people, and I did make some big tips... How big are the tips you ask? Well, I got a new band for my label, once Patrick decides to write the music for our last song.... Yeah, I'm hoping to get the record done soon, too. It's been wonderful talking to you. It really has.... But I smell like pancakes, so I really should shower. But, really, it's been great." I walked towards the stairs, throwing my dirty apron at Patrick.
Patrick:
Something soft that reeked of pancakes and syrup slammed into the side of my face.
"AHH!" I screamed, wiping maple syrup off of my face. "What the hell was that!?!" I yelled, my words slightly muffled, as I lifted the stinky piece of fabric off of my face.
"Pete's apron." Reyna laughed, handing me a napkin.
"Eww! Gross it touched my HEAD!"
Reyna looked puzzled. "There's a problem with this?"
"It's all syrupy! And it was on my HEAD! I don't like it when things touch my head." I shuddered, removing my glasses, wiping them free of syrup.
"You look nice without glasses." Reyna smiled.
"I have contacts," I squinted at her, "I just don't like to wear them."
"Oh, well, you look hot in glasses too." I saw a flash of white appear where her mouth should be.
"Uh, thanks." I blushed, wiping my face with a napkin. "Maybe I'll wear my contacts more often." I sighed, seeing a blurred version of Reyna picking up Pete's apron, and dropping it down the laundry chute.
"Well, I guess I have some laundry to do tonight." she sighed. Suddenly, she ran over to the table, picked up my glasses, and skipped up the stairs.
"Hey! Come back!" I shouted. "I need those!" I raced up the stairs after her.
"Reyna...?" I called down the hallway as I reached the top of the slim stairwell.
"Patrick?" I heard her giggle from the other end of the house. "Come here!" she whispered, stepping into sight. She was just a blur. I quietly walked towards her, when I arrived at her feet, she gently placed my glasses back in their rightful place, smiling, and blushing. 'Look!' she mouthed, opening the door to their bathroom a crack, and pointing inside.
I peered through the door, and saw Pete standing at the mirror, a towel wrapped strategically around his waist, singing into a hair brush, "Taking back every step towards you,
still failing at everything I do. In the meantime just talking with my shoes,converse with my Converse! At least they hear a word I say ee ay! And scrutinize it, yeah! Just as far as they can tell what I'm getting at." while dancing in front of the mirror.
Reyna grabbed my hand, and shot down the more formal, definetly less used, front stairs. We ended up in the living room, small and cozy, with a decent sized T.V., and a large couch.
"Hi." she smiled, pulling me down next to her on the couch.
"Umph. Hello." I said, trying to keep from sinking into the large leather couch, but failing miserablely.
We heard heavy foot steps thudding down the front steps.
"Reyna!"
"I'm not here!" she called, throwing her hood over her head, and covering her eyes.
"Patrick have you seen Reyna?" Pete asked, stumbling into the living room, carrying a handheld mirror, applying large amounts of eyeliner around his brown orbs.
"Uhh..." I said, pointing at the figure on the couch next to me.
"Oh!" He said, setting down the mirror and the eyeliner stick on the coffee table. He ran his hands through his newly straightened hair, and then placed them firmly on his hips. "You." he said, pointing at Reyna as she removed her hood.
"Yes?" she asked sweetly.
"You were spying on me in the bathroom. I heard you. And your adoreable giggling." He said, turning towards me, smiling. "And you, you're not any better mister! Anyway, I'm going out with Emily tonight, so please, behave, I don't want to come home to a drunken house party, understand that you two?" he asked.
"Yes." we both nodded.
Reyna:
"Yes." I nodded, and rolled my eyes, snaking my arms around Patrick's arm as Pete gathered his things.
"Oh, and there are condoms are in my top desk drawer..." Pete mumbled while running up the stairs.
"Perv!" I yelled, unfortunetly, in Patrick's ear.
"Owch!" he whined, shutting his eyes.
"Awh. I'm so sorry! I'm so hateful! Why do you even put up with me? I always hurt you!" I asked, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
He turned, and placed his rough lips on mine, and pulled away saying "Because you make me the happiest man alive, and you would never hurt me in the way that really matters to me."
"I love you." escaped from my lips. I felt my cheeks flame red, but Patrick must have not noticed, because he smiled at me, kissed my forehead, and repeated those beautiful, beautiful words.
"I love you too."
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